After Darkness
by vendettaxvotary
Summary: V is alive...but when Evey is threatened by someone more powerful than V, will they be able to prove that their love stands for all of time? RATING CHANGE...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: Though I would give my spleen to own V, sadly, I don't. Please don't tattle on me to the court.

V crouched behind a rather large stack of books in the far corner of the room like a panther ready to pounce. He couldn't resist watching Evey as she strode purposefully over to a long white table to pour herself a cup of tea. To her, he had been death for almost eight months now. But what she didn't know was that her beloved was alive and well, merely coaxing her to spread her wings and leave the darkness by remaining absent from her new life. Yes, that was it: her _new_ life. A life in the golden sun of the world above; as far away from the abyss of the shadows of his world below. But it didn't mean that he did not follow her from time to time, trying to convince himself that it was just of assure her safety.

She seemed content with her life. The bright smile on her face made her as beautiful as ever as she eagerly took on her new career as a professor of the arts. Not only that, but she had finally reunited with her two old best friends, Kate and Danäe, and was absolutely adored by everyone—especially her students.

Yes, she seemed happy. So why did it hurt so much?

Evey stood before the tea tray, pouring the steamy amber liquid into a small cup, her back toward her two friends.

"Hey, Evey," Kate began with a smirk, "I think that Chris is quite taken with you."

V's breath caught reflexively. Yes he had seen the man Kate was referring to. Tall, brown hair, brown eyes, and an angelic face—the very definition of handsome to most people. V had seen them together chatting a few times, his gut wrenching every time Evey smiled or Chris gazed unknowingly upon her. They looked so perfect together, so…normal.

'_It's for the best,'_ V would think. _'I want this to happen. I want for her to have a normal life.'_ But he knew that that was only half true.

"Is he, now?" Evey responded in a hollow tone that abruptly caught V's attention. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of hope. No matter how many times he tried to convince himself that Chris was just another happy addition to Evey's life, a small part of him loathed the man and tried to think of a way to keep him as far away from his love as possible.

The silence stretched for a moment while Evey reached for a lemon wedge and a small spoonful of sugar. Kate listened to the soft clink of the spoon against the sides of the porcelain cup before she spoke again.

"Evey," she hesitated for a moment. "He would want you to move on, to see someone else, to be…happy."

Kate grimaced as the spoon clattered painfully back onto the silver tray and Eve went stock-still. She was already regretting her words.

"It doesn't require another man to 'move on,' nor bring me happiness," Evey said coldly.

"Evey—"

"No!" Evey spun around. Sorrow, agony, and rage blazed in her eyes as she glared at the shell-shocked woman.

"I don't want someone else! There _is_ no one else," she shrieked as tears began to flood her vision. "That chance came and went with…" her voice broke, and she swallowed. Quickly, Evey turned and picked up her tea, mustering all of her energy to retain her composure as she headed in agonized silence to the door. But then she stopped just before the threshold and released a shuddering sigh.

"I'd rather live with the pain than the illusion of happiness," she said softly, then left the room.

Kate and Danäe sat silently, just staring at the door. From his hiding place, V didn't even move. He had never felt so hopeful and yet so sad in his life. Could it be that she truly loved him—that is, if they were in fact referencing him? And, if it really was true, how much pain had he been causing her by staying away?

Danäe's voice brought him out of his reverie.

"Well, saying that she's over him would be the understatement of the year," she quipped in a humorless tone.

Kate let out a heavy sigh and raked her palm over her eyes before she spoke.

"Danäe, I just don't know what to do anymore."

They both sat in heavy silence for a few minutes before Kate inhaled deeply and stood up. "We have class. Let's talk about this later."

The two exited the room leaving V to contemplate his plan.

There was one way he could find out about Evey's feeling without revealing himself….

Should he…there were risks….

V sprang from his hiding place and raced out the window and down the fire escape.

Yes, he should…only because he might have a new reason to live, another chance at happiness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: Though I would give my spleen to own V, sadly, I don't. Please don't tattle on me to the court.

There was a knock at the office door.

"Yes?" Evey's voice sounded a bit distracted.

A short, plump woman opened the door. Her sandy hair was pulled back neatly into a bun and her mouth was quirked into a tight, toothless smile ready to burst at any moment into a wide grin.

"There is a man here to see you Ms Hammond," she squeaked, her blue round eyes twinkling with excitement.

Evey grinned at the flustered woman. "Very good, Charlotte. Send him in."

Charlotte turned her head to look back out the door, her eyes following a tall man as he crossed the threshold. Besides his height, the first thing she noticed about him was that everything about him was black, except for his skin. Upon looking closer, his handsome face under the shadow of the fedora was creamy, smooth, and unblemished. He took off his hat to reveal a thick mane of slightly wavy raven hair that strongly contrasted his deep-set, brilliant blue eyes. Beneath the tight knit layer of his sweater she could see that his chest and arms were thick and brawny, worthy of any high class body builder. A black long coat was draped over his arm along with a matching silk scarf held in a black-clad hand. He stood with his feet slightly apart, his legs rising into two powerful columns. Overall, he had the appearance and stature of a Greek god.

Evey managed to stifle a giggle as she saw Charlotte eyes rake the stranger over then fan herself as she shut the door.

"Ms Hammond?" His voice was deep and silky, with a hint of Scottish origin.

Evey stood up and rounded the desk. She held out her hand to him. "Yes, and how may I help you mister….?"

He didn't say anything at first, but kept his deep blue eyes locked with hers. Delicately, he took her hand in his black gloved one and raised her knuckles to his lips. Her breath caught. There was only one other person she knew did that. She remembered when _he_ would take her hand in greeting or farewell and raise it to his porcelain lips. She wondered if he ever knew that even though he could not caress her fingers with real fleshy lips, the fact that he was making such a gesture still sent little tendrils of heat dancing all the way from her fingertips to her toes. And now he was…no, no thoughts of him right now. It was time to be cool and composed.

"Vincent Verbeck."

Vincent Verbeck. V, V. Probably just a coincidence.

_There's no such thing as coincidence._ A voice echoed in her mind that sounded remarkably like V's.

"Mr. Verbeck?"

He smiled. "I have a particular infatuation with the liberal arts, but I feel that I am lacking in the proper analysis of some of the great works. I have been told that you are a much esteemed professor of literature, and I wish to enroll in your class."

Evey's lips quirked into a smile and blushed at the compliment.

"Well," she began to pull out drawers and shuffle papers. "If you're going to enroll, you'll need to fill out some forms…" She kept shuffling for a few more moments, then stopped and glanced up. "Shoot, I don't have anymore in my desk. Would you mind waiting here for a moment? I just need to grab some from Charlotte."

Vincent nodded. "That will be fine."

Evey shut the drawers and quickly exited the room, unaware of Vincent's eyes following her all the way.

vVvVv

V sat in Evey's office, idly wondering if Evey had picked up on his not-so-subtle hint at all. Probably. She reacted casually, but he could have sworn he saw a flicker of surprise in her eyes at his introduction. But still, it was too soon to reveal himself to her. He should approach it gradually with dropped clues to nudge her in the right direction. God only knew what her reaction would be if the truth just came and smacked her full force in the face.

"_O_-kay." V watched Evey saunter back in with a thin stack of papers, sifting through them as she went.

_She couldn't look any lovelier, nor professional_, V thought. Evey had grown her hair back out, and it was pulled back in a loose bun with a few wisps of curls dangling about her ears. She had a modest amount of eye make up on and a red wine colored lipstick. A black skirt cascaded down her thighs to her knees and complemented a matching jacket and set of heals. Underneath the jacket was a thin cream blouse with the top two buttons open, leaving a good portion of her neck revealed. But what truly caught V's attention was the necklace that was nestled just beneath the hollow of her throat. A simple tear-drop diamond set in silver, the same necklace he gave to her as a gift to match one of her favorite outfits during her stay in the gallery.

"_I have a surprise for you, my dear."_

"_Really? A present? What is it V?" Evey's eyes twinkled with excitement._

"_Close your eyes and hold out your hands." The grin was audible in his voice, but he still felt nervous, unsure about what she would think about the gift._

_Evey immediately squinched her eyes shut and thrust out her open palms. She felt a small velvet box press into her hands. Immediately she opened her eyes and lifted the lid._

"_Oh, V," she gushed. "It's absolutely beautiful!" _

_Relief washed over him as she lifted the single diamond from the box._

"_Will you help me put it on?" She handed him the necklace and turned her back to him, pulling her hair to the side._

_V slid the chain around her neck and clasped it, his fingertips brushing the nape of her neck, lingering for a bit longer than was strictly necessary._

_She turned back around to face him._

"_I love it," she said, smiling as she fingered the stone beneath her throat. "Thank you, V."_

_Then she did something V didn't expect: she reached out and squeezed him tightly to herself. He was too stunned to react; his arms remained loose at his sides. The only physical contact he ever remembered was either to bring him pain or inflict death. This was something far sweeter and purer. _

_Tentatively, he brought his arms up and enfolded her in his embrace. Evey smiled as she heard him sigh softly. They both held onto each other for a few moments more, then Evey was the first one to pull back. V was reluctant to release her, but managed to unhook his arms and look down upon her._

"_I—" his voice faltered and he cleared his throat. "I am very pleased that you like it." _

V smiled absently at the memory of that simple intimate gesture. To Evey, it may have been a casual gesture between close friends, but to him it meant the entire world.

"These are the enrollment papers." Evey's voice snapped him out of his reverie. "Basically just personal background stuff. You'll need to—"

She was interrupted by another knock on the door.

"Excuse me for a moment. Yes?"

Charlotte came in cradling a package under her arm. "This just arrived for you from someone named Inspector Finch. He said it was important that you receive it."

Charlotte set the parcel down in front of Evey and left the room.

Finch? V only saw her occasionally visit with Finch, usually regarding either which artifacts from the old gallery should be reintroduced back into the world at the right time or for some extra government policy advice. She hadn't seen him much at all after the fifth. He had been buried under rallying the nation back together and eliminating the rest of the fragments of Norsefire. Well, of course V had been working to stamp out the rest of the old government faction as well, but he had done a clever job of covering up his trail. No one could possibly know that he was still alive…yet.

Evey stared curiously at the small brown package then reached for a pair of scissors. She snipped the tape and ripped the brown paper apart. Inside there was packing peanuts, tissue, more tissue, and…wait a minute….

She paused and stared in disbelief and horror at the box's contents. There, amidst the nest of packaging paper was a chunk of the mask that rode on the train with V to parliament. Most of the porcelain had been obliterated, revealing the strong steal surface beneath. The surface was mostly smooth, but it still carried a few nicks from the bullets that had pummeled the mask.

Although she knew that V had died in before the explosion, she always carried the tiniest shred of hope. It had worn down in the past few months, but it was still there, no matter how small. But now, seeing this, it was just so…complete. It stamped out that last glimmer of faith that she had clung to so desperately.

V watched helplessly as Evey tentatively lifted the remains from the paper and cradle it reverently in her hands. A slip of paper was underneath it.

Dear Evey,

I thought that you would want to have this. The cabinet thought it best to put in a memorial, but I believe you are the most appropriate recipient for his item. I am truly sorry if by receiving this you are upset, but I know that you will treasure it well. He was a great man who did more for this country than anyone could ever have done, and I am doing my best to ensure his legacy. He will never be forgotten.

Sincerely,

Eric Finch

PS. This is all that remains of the mask. We found it a mile down on Victoria Street.

Evey was struggling to fight back tears and was slowly losing the battle. A sea of memories both cherished and yet painful flooded her mind as she stared at the fragment of V's mask.

She now seemed to notice that Vincent was still in the room and spared a quick glace at him.

"I'm sorry will you excuse me for a moment? I'll be right back." Her voice none too steady.

She didn't wait for a reply, but spun on one heel, mask held tightly to her chest, and quickly walked to a side door leading to the office bathroom.

He felt his heart ripping in half as his hyper acute senses picked up the barely audible sobs coming from behind the closed door. He could make the pain all go away. All he had to do was go in there, crush her into his arms, and swear that he was a thousand times sorry for all that he put her through. Very tempting, and he actually found himself inching toward the door. But he caught himself and stopped.

_No, I must gradually broach on that knowledge. Let her decipher some of the mystery. _

The sobs continued for a few minutes until they slowly died away. There was some shuffling followed by a nose blowing, and then a facet turned on and then off. V never took his eyes from the door.

Evey reentered the room with an expressionless face, but her glassy puffy eyes revealed her inner turmoil. She had dabbed up most of her smeared mascara, but the bitter tears had stained her reddened cheeks. The piece of the mask was no longer present in her hand.

_She must not want to break down again,_ he thought painfully.

Evey kept her eyes mostly on the floor, embarrassed at her sudden lack of control. She did manage to look up as she eventually reached her desk. His expression was sympathetic and, something else…Empathy? Understanding?

"I'm sorry, I'm not usually so overly emotional." She gave him a wobbly smile.

"There is nothing to apologize for."

Evey began to hastily put the tissue paper back into the box, aware that Vincent's eyes were burning a hole in her back the entire time.

"Was he special to you?" His soft voice cut through the silence.

Evey froze. There was a beat of silence.

"Yes," Evey's voice was barely above a whisper. "He saved me on numerous occasions, protected me, sheltered me, cared for me. And he was everything I ever wanted and so much more. I hadn't even realized it until the day he died. I never got to tell him." She bit her lip, struggling to blink back another wave of tears that threatened to spill over at any second.

_Oh, Evey._ V was having trouble fighting back his tears of his own. _I must remain only empathetic, not overly emotional._

"He must have loved you very much."

Evey gave a humorless snort of laughter. "I like to think so. Maybe in more of a friendly way. Probably not in the way I loved him." She went back to shoveling packing peanuts back into the box. "But that doesn't matter now. I've lost him, and I'll never get him back."

Behind her, V was so overwhelmed with emotion he was feeling nauseous.

How could she truly believe that he did not love her? She was life, love, and hope.

It was true, his vendetta was inevitable, but she meant far more to him. His destined path was to complete his vendetta and then perish. But Evey, Evey had changed his fate. He came back for _her_.

"Now," Evey handed him the stack of papers. "These enrollment papers are pretty straight forward. You can for review tomorrow. Class starts on Monday at nine o'clock sharp. We will be discussing Dante Alighieri and _The Divine Comedy_."

V took the papers and gathered up his hat and coat. He turned back to Evey, who was staring at a spot on the floor, lost in thought.

"You mustn't give up hope, my dear," he said. "Your lover may still be out there, waiting for you. Who knows, he may have survived his fate."

Evey was speechless. What did he mean 'still out there' and 'survived his fate?' She said that he died, and never revealed anything about how or what happened. And here he is, telling her that she shouldn't give up hope, almost as if he knew the whole story of her past.

Before she could question that though, Vincent reached for her hand and kissed it again in farewell.

"I look forward to your most accredited lessons. Until Monday at nine o'clock, I bid you adieu Ms Hammond." He smiled and turned and left.

Curious. He reminded her so much of V. His name, his stature, his manners, his thirst for literature and knowledge, even his clothing seemed like something V would wear if he was a 'normal' public citizen.

She smiled at that last thought. But why did it seem like he knew more than he was telling her?

She blew out a sigh and returned to her desk. Well, she'd have a whole semester to get to know him. This might be interesting to find out more about him.

vVvVv

V shut the door behind in a sighed. He put on his coat and hat and smiled and nodded goodbye to Charlotte, who momentarily lost her grip on a stack of files she was carrying and jolted to save them from scattering on the floor.

_The Divine Comedy. _Perfect

Walking down the corridor, V rehearsed his plan to reveal himself to Evey. It had to be subtle, but obvious enough for her to figure it out. After all, she thought he was dead.

_Soon, my love,_ V thought. _Very soon._

**Author's Notes**: Thank you so much guys for bearing with me. I've had it pretty busy for the past few weeks, and the misery is continuing :(. I've been writing little bits and pieces here and there for the third chapter, but it probably won't be up too soon. But I promise V and Evey will be getting back together soon :).


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: Though I would give my spleen to own V, sadly, I don't. Please don't tattle on me to the court.

"Good morning, everyone," Evey smiled cheerfully at the class. The students nodded and mumbled greetings as Evey set down a briefcase beside her desk. She spied Vincent in the front row and nodded hello. He returned it with his own.

"Now, today I will begin the lecture on the _Divine Comedy_. I trust you have all read the

book, so we will begin our discussion with a general and brief view of the entire work and then move to the first book, the _Inferno_, and the analysis of Dante's structure, themes, catharsis, style, and views."

Evey began to slowly pace around in the front of the room.

"Now, the _Divine Comedy_ in its entirety is an allegory of the journey of the human spirit though life as well as a representation of Dante Alighieri's own journey (as seen with the main character Dante, who is the author himself). The journey begins with the soul straying from the path of God, as Dante describes being in the Dark Woods and is hindered by three beasts who prevent him from embarking on the path straight to heaven. The poet Virgil, who is a symbolic figure of human reason, must guide Dante along the path through hell and purgatory before he reaches heaven."

One graceful black clad hand arose from the line of students in the front row.

"You, of course, are familiar with the history of Alighieri's inspiration for one of the many characters of his work," Vincent said.

"Of course. He was inspired by the many corrupt political officials residing in Florence during the time of his banishment," Evey replied. "And he expressed his opinion of them by revealing their crimes and assigning them specific punishments in hell."\

"Not of those characters." Evey could have sworn she saw a particular twinkling in Vincent's eyes. " Of the purest character. Dante's express goal: Beatrice."

"Yes, his inspiration was drawn from Beatrice, hers was the symbol of heaven, and the spirit to guide Dante through _Paradisio_, but I haven't even discussed the elements of the Inferno yet." Evey eyed him questioningly, uncertain of where his conversation was leading.

"Oh, but the journey may be insignificant as compared to Dante's ultimate goal. He may have learned many things about sin and the corruption in the nine circles of hell, but he never would have learned them had it not been for Beatrice. She was his light, his salvation. Dante withstood almost certain death, but he loved his Beatrice enough to come back to her, so that he may find eternal peace within her arms."

There was a certain knowing smile on his face along with a glowing light within his eyes that set some warning bells off in Evey's head.

Was Vincent alluding to something?

He was deliberately turning her lecture into something almost to clue her into some mysterious issue…

Or was he just using her lecture to hit on her?

_V use to do this to me too,_ Evey remembered happily for a moment. _He would sometimes take his teachings and turn it into a puzzle to hint at the solution to a problem I was solving. Like the time he used Sherlock Holmes to hint where he hid me a present in the gallery._

She almost smiled at the memory, but wait…V?

Evey studied the handsome young man suspiciously who had never once lost his slightly smug expression. She thought back to the time he first introduced himself and summed it up to his presence now: his gentlemanly manners, his eloquence with words, even his physique; and although Vincent's voice was a notch higher than V's, dripping with Scottish descent, he certainly did have enough qualities similar to V…now more than ever.

Could it be….

No, it couldn't possibly be…but still.

"Er…thank you Mr. Verbeck. Would you mind discussing this further with me after class?"

Vincent's head inclined a fraction of an inch in reply.

"Thank you. Now…." Evey turned back to the quite confused class and resumed her lecture on Dante's unique style of _terza rima_, and his politically-inspired characters of the _Inferno_. This time, Vincent was silent, and didn't interrupt even once until the class was over. But Evey occasionally cast him a glance, curiously wondering about his infatuation with Beatrice.

Class ended at promptly eleven o'clock, and everyone gathered their notebooks and headed for the door. Vincent was the only one to stay behind. Evey was aware of him watching her file away papers in her desk while the classroom emptied, but she didn't glance up once until everyone was gone.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that there was some underlying meaning to your discussion Mr. Verbeck," she said when the last student shut the door. Vincent stood and placed his hands behind his back.

_Even his stance is like…._ Evey shook her head to wave off the thought.

He shrugged, feigning innocence. "And what sort of meaning would you presume?"

Evey sighed. "You were hitting on me."

"And what would lead you to believe that?" he asked with the faintest hint of a smug grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

She blinked then frowned. Did she really have to spell this out for him?

"Oh, don't you look so innocent, Mister Charm the Professor out of Her Pants," she remarked with her hands on her hips. She was starting to get annoyed. He was there when Charlotte delivered the remnants of the mask. He knew why she couldn't….

"'Beatrice was Dante's goal; Dante loved his Beatrice.' That's not really all too subtle of a hint."

He smiled, but said nothing.

Evey huffed an exasperated sigh and rubbed her temple. She didn't want to hurt his feelings; it was such a sweet way to woo a girl, and no doubt if V had said that to her, she'd melt into a puddle of emotion. But Vincent wasn't V. He was like V in many ways, but he never would be V…and she would end up hurting him in some way if she tried to pretend that he was.

"Look, I appreciate that you're trying to do, and your manner in which you're doing it is very romantic. But you know why I can't. You remind me a lot of Vuh…I mean…but it's not a good idea, okay?" She spun around and began sifting through papers on her desk, pretending that she was doing something important.

For a few moments, the only sound in the room was the shuffle of papers. Vincent was finally broke the silence.

"So you would deny your own happiness by clinging to your memories of the past?" It was a statement, not a question.

Evey whipped around, her eyes indignant and furious. How dare he make such an impertinent remark! He didn't even know her!

"You have absolutely no reason to dissect my life _Mister_ Verbeck," she snapped, waving a fistful of papers at him. "And you have no idea what it's like to love someone with every fiber of your being only to have your heart ripped out and stomped on because a vendetta is more important. And just when you think that it's all over and you can finally be with him, he gets shot to bloody hell and bleeds to death. And you didn't even get to tell him that you loved him because you're such…a…god…damn…chicken."

By now, a few tears had shaken loose and were trickling down her cheeks. Her breathing had become labored at the finish of her sentence, and she paused to take a few deep breaths.

Control. She needed to regain control. V had once taught her the painful lesson of taking a firm grip on emotion, but all of the nostalgia and then the mask from the night of parliament…it had somehow weakened that grip until all she could feel was regret, pain, and a very sharp stab of loneliness.

She straightened up and smoothed out her black skirt and blouse. Vincent remained silent, but watched her with pained eyes.

She sniffed and swallowed back a lump that felt like the size of a boulder.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Verbeck. If this is all, I'll bid you good day." She turned away again and resumed her mindless task of rummaging though the items on her desk, hoping that he would take the hint and leave.

She was balancing a fat binder full of papers on her arm when a loud defeated sigh resounded behind her.

"I never meant to hurt you, Evey," a deep very English voice rumbled.

Evey froze. She knew that voice. It was the same deep and sensual voice that haunted her dreams, returning with the man it possessed. He would scoop her into his arms while she listened to the same wonderful voice repeat words of love and endearment a thousand times over…only to wake up to find that her subconscious had played a cruel trick on her.

Both of her arms went limp, and the binder fell to the ground with a loud _schlop_.

She slowly and disbelievingly turned around to face who she thought was Vincent Verbeck. He stood there with his hands hanging loosely at his sides, his posture a bit slumped and defeated, but his brilliant blue gaze remained firmly locked with hers.

"V?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, and her lips trembled at his name.

He nodded.

Slowly, almost as if she was approaching some wild animal, she stepped up to him until they were toe and toe. His eyes never wavered from hers.

"V?" Her voice was a bit louder as she tentatively reached out a trembling hand and touched his chest, the look in her wide eyes betrayed the feeling that he would disappear in front of her at any moment.

He nodded again, this time his own tears welling up in his eyes. "It's me, Evey."

It was all the confirmation she needed.

"V," she cried and flung herself into his arms. He wrapped his arms around her all the while shushing and whispering to her as she sobbed into his chest.

V was barely aware of his own tears rolling down the smooth latex of his mask, he was so overjoyed with sensation of Evey's nearness. She clung to him as if her life depended on it, every curve molding to his own. Warm wetness soaked through the cloth of his shirt and snaked down his front as she continued to weep and shake against him. The scent of lavender tickled his nose while his cheek pressed against the side of her head.

_And she's crying for me,_ V thought as joy flooded his being.

Suddenly, he felt a hard shove against his torso that was enough to propel him back a step. His eyes automatically snapped open to find Evey's flush and tear-stained face emerge in front of him as she stumbled away. In her eyes a whirlwind of emotion raged as she lifted an accusing finger at him.

"You bloody bastard, you were alive all along and you didn't even come to me," she ranted, her voice sharp. But on the last note, the anger disappeared from her eyes only to be replaced by a deep dark anguish.

"You didn't even come to me," she whispered in realization.

"Evey—" He reached out to her, but she stepped back shaking her head.

"Don't."

There was so much emotion in that word, so much sorrow in her eyes, V felt his heart crumple. He had made a horrible mistake. He should never have left her. Now, was there no hope of a future, or would Evey give him another chance?

His arms fell back to his sides. How on earth was he going to explain this?

"I apologize, Evey. I did not return to you because you don't belong with me in the shadows," he said with a heavy sigh. Evey didn't move a muscle and remained silent, so V pressed on. "I wanted you to break free of the darkness, break free of me. You belong in the light of this world you helped to create.

I only now see the error in my ways. I meant what I said the night of the fifth, but I never truly knew if you returned the same feeling. And I didn't know how much pain my alleged death caused you…I saw that man Chris a few times…and I thought…I thought you were happy and I had been replaced…and I…and you…" His shoulders slumped dejectedly and he averted his eyes as he realized he had failed the rest of his explanation.

There was silence for a few moments.

"You deliberately stayed away because you thought I needed a new life." She stepped towards him. V looked up hopefully.

"I was only thinking in your best interests, Evey."

"You hurt me and caused me grief because you thought that I belong in light instead of shadow." She continued to step towards him.

"I never meant to cause you any grief, Evey. But no matter what selfish part of me wanted to whisk you back away with me, I left you to stand on your own feet. To live the life you were born to live."

She stepped into the circle of his arms and rested her head against his chest.

"You love me."

V held her tightly against him and whispered softly into her hair, "Yes, Evey, I love you."

**Author's notes**: Thank you all for reviewing. I know this chapter is kind of short, but I decided to split it up into two. In the next chapter, I'm going to delve into some of the juicy stuff, so stick with me. I'm working hard to get this story routinely updated.


	4. Chapter 4

**To all of my reviewers**: Thank you so much guys, you're wonderful! Your feedback is very important to me, very encouraging. I'm glad that you're enjoying the story so far. I hope it continues that way.

**Disclaimer**: Though I would give my spleen to own V, sadly, I don't. Please don't tattle on me to the court.

V held Evey snugly in his arms, her tears slowly abating at the gentle strokes of his hand. Already he was planning on the questions she would ask that he would have to answer. But the biggest question of all was where they were now. She would, no doubt, want to be with him, and he would never refuse such a wonderful gift…but she still hadn't seen what lay underneath the latex mask: evidence of years of pain, torture, and loneliness—all seared into his charred flesh.

Did she even know about Larkhill? God, what would she think? Would she be repulsed? Sympathetic? What if it drove her away?

A cold sick feeling washed over him, and a knot formed in his stomach. He couldn't bear to think of that last thought.

Just then Evey sniffed noisily and leaned her head back from his chest to look up at him. She dashed the remaining tears away from her cheeks with the back of one hand and smiled a wide grin of sheer, unadulterated happiness. Her eyes were swimming with nothing but warmth, relief, and tender affection.

He returned her grin with one of his own.

_She is so beautiful, even when she's crying,_ he thought and brushed away a stray tear with his thumb.

"I knew there was something about Vincent that reminded me you. That was very clever with your Beatrice-Dante allusion," she laughed, and reached up and stroked one latex cheek. "This is a mask." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes." V nodded.

"It's very you, and you have the most beautiful blue eyes I've ever seen," she said, and nestled back down into his chest, completely oblivious to his stunned expression.

Beautiful eyes? There was something beautiful about him? Though he didn't respond, he tightened his embrace and held her to him thinking that he could very well stay like this for all eternity. But Evey finally sighed and reared back, though still smiling.

"You know, just because I'm completely overjoyed at seeing you, doesn't get you off the hook, mister. I intend to grill you for answers, and there's no way you're going to escape from me now," she teased lightheartedly, but V knew that beneath her jumbled emotions, she was quite serious.

He chuckled low and deep in his throat and said, "Of course I will do my best to answer all your questions, and I have no desire of escaping you. Though, I suggest we commence with this 'grilling' in a setting more apropos."

He took her hand and began to pull her toward the exit of the classroom.

"Were are we going?" Evey asked, bemused.

He turned to her with a smile, but continued to walk, slowing his inhumanly quick pace so that she may keep up.

"The Shadow Gallery."

Evey's eyes widened in surprise. "You've been in the gallery this whole time? But there have been government employees running in and out of there with antiques. How have you not yet been caught?"

"It's not the old Gallery. More of the Shadow Gallery Part Deux."

vVvVv

Evey sat on the couch observing the "second, temporary" replica Shadow Gallery. Many of V's old favorite relics had been removed from the first and placed in the new large chamber, no doubt to avoid any working government officials walking in on him while they were reintegrating culture back into the new civil society. Eventually everything would be given back to the people, but Evey had the feeling that V wanted to hang onto a few for a bit longer. Every room was exactly the same in layout and location, except for some new pieces of artwork he had replaced the old ones with.

"Even the jukebox is here in the exact same place," Evey laughed to herself.

V. He had gone off to his dressing room, claiming that he must remove the latex mask because his sensitive skin was beginning to become irritated by the adhesive.

And now, Evey was left alone with a few disturbing thoughts. Where was their relationship now? She wanted to be with him, but what if—

Her thoughts were interrupted by the soft sound of creaking leather. V rounded the couch and stood a few feet away from her. He was back in his full Fawkesian garb, minus the cloak, hat, and knives. There was a sudden warmth that washed over Evey at seeing him back as his usual self.

"May I get you anything? Food? Something to drink?" he asked politely.

Evey shook her head. "No, thank you."

V tilted his head in reply and took the seat next to her on the couch, his movements smoothly elegant, hinting at controlled power. His knee came in close contact with her own, but, still uncertain, he was careful to not touch.

"So," Evey began, "where do you want to start?"

V sighed heavily and replied, "That, my dear, is the question, isn't it?"

He was silent for a few moments, his back as straight as a board, his fingers flexed on his knees, digging into the black cloth.

Noting his discomfort, Evey scooted up to his side, drawing his arm around her side and resting her head on his chest. He remained tense until Evey linked her fingers through his own, and he slowly began to relax.

"Let's start from the night of the fifth," she said, staring blankly down at their laced fingers. "How on earth—" she paused, struggling to form the right words. "You died in my arms, V. I felt it. And, I put you on that god awful train, how did…." Her voice trailed off.

V thought for a moment. "Well, I remember that at that moment I was consumed by what seemed just a warm, sticky blackness."

She began languidly tracing little circles on the back of his hand with her thumb. "So, you died and came back to life?"

He felt the little tendrils of heat streaking up his arm from the spot her thumb was stroking and fought to keep his mind on track. "In a manner of speaking. One theory is that my body had suffered a significant loss of blood; therefore, I believe it shut down in order to preserve and restore my energy. But I needed the willpower to do so. Without it, I would have perished. This leads into my other theory: that I had the choice of either living or dying at that point, and I chose to live."

Evey was silent while she digested the information, and then whispered, "Why did you choose to live? You told me that you were glad that you were finished. 'No more tricks, no more lies, only truth.'" She propped her chin up on his arm, just enough to look at him.

The mask turned toward her to stare down into her eyes. "The truth is, Evey, I had once thought that my sole purpose was to bring down Sutler and his cronies. That night, I was sure that I had fulfilled my destiny."

"But there was more?" She asked hopefully.

He nodded. "I believe that when your purpose has not been fulfilled, images and memories will pass in your mind of the things you have not accomplished. I was given a new purpose the eve I brought you the gallery. And that was what I saw when I was given the choice to live or die: images of you. I chose to live because of you."

By now, his voice was thick with emotion as he watched a tear escape from Evey's welled-up eyes. He brought a hand up to brush it away. A brilliant smile spread over her face as she held his hand to her cheek. She turned her head and nuzzled and kissed his palm, something he felt right through the fabric of the glove.

But then she did something he did not anticipate. Evey slowly, seductively pulled at the fingertips of the glove. It didn't even register to V until his entire hand was bare to his, and more importantly, her view. He quickly tried to hide it, but she gently caught his arm and pried his fingers from a fist.

She spread his fingers out and took in the sight. It was exactly as she remembered. Mottled, red with white patches scattered across the surface. The texture was a different feel, it was supple and smooth, despite the ridges and valleys, but at the same time it had a very subtle coarseness to it. But it was him, and that was all that mattered.

V's entire body tensed, and he gasped reflexively as Evey raised his hand to cup her face. She kissed each fingertip and continued down to scatter kisses across his palm.

He was overwhelmed by this entirely alien sensation, but he drank in every bit of it.

"How did you get off the train," she said to his fingers as she continued to press kisses to them, much to V's delight.

"I'm not absolutely sure exactly how I was able to get off the train. It's…a blur, really. I assume I jumped. I mostly remember determination and a particular numbness. Once I was back in the gallery, I was able to rest and nurse myself back to health."

She stopped. V nearly groaned aloud at the loss, but caught himself as she looked back up at him with remorse. "And I wasn't there to help you through it. V, I'm so sorry. If I had known—" V stopped her by pressing a reddened finger to her lips and impulsively dragging a thumb across her full lower lip.

"You have nothing to apologize for, sweet Evey. I know that you would have helped me, had you known. But I'm glad you didn't. You never would have spread your wings, so to speak, if you tended to me."

She looked away guiltily. He was right. She would have compromised everything she had in order to stay down in the gallery with him. What he had done had been a selfless act on his part, and something that made her love for him grow all the more.

"I know," she said, and climbed up onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her nose in the crook of his neck. V seemed momentarily taken by surprise, but he wrapped his arms around her with growing practice.

_He smells bloody wonderful_, Evey thought, breathing in his scent. _Like a mixture of leather, coconut, and something masculine. I wonder if it's a sin for a man to smell this good?_

They held each other in silence for a few minutes, each simply basking in the other's presence.

V was the first to break the silence. "May I inquire a question, Evey?"

"Hmm?" She hummed dreamily, a sound that shook V to his core. He very much hoped to evoke that sound from her again in the near future.

"What did you do during that time when I was healing?" He asked.

Evey snuggled closer in the safety of his arms, soaking up his warmth. "I slept a lot."

There were a few moments of silence before V spoke. "Please forgive me, Evey," he apologized in a hushed voice. "I—"

"You were there, in my dreams," she interrupted with a sad smile as she ran a hand down the sleeve of his arm. "They were always pleasant. We would be talking, or walking together in the sunshine, or dancing, or…." Her voice trailed off and she turned her head to hide her face in the fabric of his chest. V craned his neck to glance down at her, seeing only the soft wave of her hair at the side of her head.

"Or what, Evey?" He prompted, stroking a hand up and down her back.

She sighed heavily into his chest and swallowed, incredulous that she was going to admit this, even to him.

But she gathered her courage and pressed on. "Sometimes…I imagined what it would have been like making love to you.…" came a low muffled voice from his chest. "I didn't take the chance…and I had wondered what it would have been like…and it's always been you V, never anyone else but you."

V didn't answer right away, and she waited in anticipation for his reply.

A wave of uncertainty and doubt crashed down on her as the silence of the room dragged on.

What did he think? Was he pleased? Regretful? Her previous thoughts began to creep back into her mind. She knew that he loved her, but did he was different that every other man she had ever known. 'Love' to the other men in her life meant a lustful craving. Of course, that wasn't really what love was in her mind; she wanted the final step to be the most intimate act shared between her and her partner, never to be tainted by anyone else. Now she had chosen her mate. But to V…love to him may not encompass any primal desire. So, what was love to him?

When he gave no answer, she turned her face just enough that he may hear her clearly and pressed on.

"Please understand me, V. I slept because it was the only way to be with you." She stared absently at her finger as she traced the seam of his shoulder, tears welling up in her eyes as she recalled the remainder of the memory. "And then I woke up." Her voice thickened then cracked a bit on the last word and V tightened his embrace around her.

V was again silent, and then said in a pained voice, "Evey, you have never even seen my face. How could you have a dream about you making love to me?"

She smiled at her next words. "I don't need a face to know that it was you, V. It was your presence, that's all that mattered. That was something that was coming from my heart."

"Yes, but—"

Evey rose up with her hands on his shoulders, straddling his legs and pinning him with an expression that silenced him as she tried to will him to understand. She knew what he was about to admit.

"Do you honestly believe that after all this time of me pining away for you that I would reject you because you don't have the perfect skin?"

V seemed a bit taken aback. "You know about Larkhill?" He whispered, suddenly feeling all the more vulnerable.

Evey's expression mollified. "Yes." She tapped the mask to emphasize her next statement. "And I know what whatever lay beneath this mask is not as bad as you believe it to be."

V looked away, unable to even meet her eyes though the mask. "I fear that it is far worse than that, my dear." His hands clenched into fists at his next revelation. "Evey, Larkhill stole everything from me…my life, my memories, my right to humanity. I am merely a product of the events that happened there. I ceased to be who I was and morphed into an idea with nothing but hatred and vengeance to fuel my existence. I am, as you once said, a monster."

Evey paused. Her own old words stung. But she had to make him see this. She had to make him see the good in himself.

"V," she tilted his chin up to gaze into her eyes, her voice soft with so much emotion it almost made him weep. "I may have meant that at the time, but I was confused and had not accepted what you have done for me. I came to terms with that months ago, which was why I returned that night of the fifth. But V, Larkhill may have stolen those things, but it didn't steal your human existence. Ideas are unfeeling, savage, and look at what you've done in the past. It's true, you have killed, but you have protected the innocent. Look at what you've done for the country: you dethroned a corrupt government and gave hope back to the people. Look at what you did for me: you took me back to the safety of your own home and treated me with more dignity and respect than any other person I've met when you could have just left me for dead that day at the BTN. No, V, ideas are cold, but you have a heart that cares, and that makes you very human."

V felt the tears well up in his eyes. How was she doing this? Despite his past, she was accepting him. Accepting him for who he was.

Evey continued. "I want to show you that Larkhill didn't steal everything from you. Don't you love me enough to trust me with the truth?"

At the last question, V quickly replied, "Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; doubt truth to be a liar; but never doubt I love."

But there was still a nagging feeling that he could not quell. Although Evey had admitted it earlier, he still felt that he should hear the words directly from her. "But Evey, what about…" His throat tightened at his next words. "What about that other man, Chris? I have seen you with him, and your demeanor seemed happy enough, and…." He looked away, unable to continue with such a painful thought.

She gently tipped his chin back up again to look directly into the mask's eyes. "You thought that you had been replaced?" She asked softly, though it was more of a statement than a question.

"Yes," he whispered.

Evey smile, affection only visible in her eyes. "Do you remember this?" She placed his fingers on the little diamond dangling beneath her throat. He fingered it, sucking in his breath as his fingertips brushed the skin surrounding the gem. The sensation was so new, so different than what he had any recollection of. It was warm and welcoming, and he began to feel his body react in a dangerous a primal craving to feel more, to lose himself in her until all the pain and torment of the world went away. But he did his best to squelch that feeling.

"Yes," he said a bit breathlessly.

"I haven't taken it off ever since the day you gave it to me. Do you really believe that I would wear it to this very day if there was someone else, if I didn't accept what and who you are?" Her voice was tender and soft as she reached up and stroked the lips of the mask.

"Evey, although you've admitted your emotions clearly, you still haven't even seen me, yet. My scars—"

"Make no difference to me, you obstinate, adorable man" she interrupted gently and affectionately as she leaned down until she was close enough to feel his warm breath on her lips as it wafted through the slit of the mask.

"I'm in love you, V. I have been for a long time now. And now that I have you, there is no hope of me ever rejecting you. You've got to know that, V. You've just got to."

With that she lowered her lips to the mask in a kiss not unlike the one she gave the night of the fifth.

Though hindered, V did his best to return the kiss, straining against the confines of the mask, tasting the sweetness of her breath.

Then it ended all too soon as she pulled away, looking him deeply in the eyes and letting all her love shine through to him. He was struck with another urge to return the favor, to show her how much he truly loved her, but first he needed to trust her. And trust her he did.

"For you, I will," he said.

Evey watched in amazement as V reached behind the silky curtain of his hair, unsure of weather it was a dream or it was truly happening. There was a soft sound of sliding leather as he moved one hand to grasp the edge of the mask and the ties fell to hang limp at the sides.

_It's real_, she thought, and the mask slowly lowered to reveal the true face of her lover….

**Author's note:** I'm so evil. I'm going to let you guys dangle off a cliffhanger for a while, mwahaha! Actually, I'm going to try to get the next chapter up a.s.a.p. I was anxious for an update, and unfortunately this is all I have time for. But rest assured, the next chapter will start off with a bang (no, not that sort of bang for you people with dirty minds ;), but that will come up soon, too).

"Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; doubt truth to be a liar; but never doubt I love"—Hamlet, Act II, scene ii.


	5. Chapter 5

**Warning: We're getting into the heavier stuff…head the rating change. This chapter is rated PG-13/ (mild) R**

**Disclaimer**: The usual I don't own anything, blah blah blah.

Slowly, ever so slowly, V lowered his last defense, his only protection against the world. His head was tilted down so that the silky curtain of the wig created a shadow over his face. He had already fought back the demons that prevented him from removing the mask, but inside the battle was still raging. Maybe he couldn't do this? Maybe he could replace the mask and save this obstacle for another time? He glanced nervously at the mask discarded off to the side of Evey's leg. No. This must be done. If he could not even show her his face, then he could not trust her; and if he could not trust her, then they had no future together.

After a few more moments of preparation, he raised his head up to meet Evey's gaze, steeling himself to see the horror in her eyes.

But instead he saw something else. As he looked up, a soft smile teased her lips and a flicker of happiness sparked in her eyes before they moved on to take in every detail of the scenery.

Twisted red and white tissue spotted his cheeks and parts of his forehead, pulling the skin tight; it crept up over the bridge of his slender nose and onto the other side, joining each ragged cheek. During her exploration, V had removed the wig so that she could see the rest of the scaring. The back of his head had definitely taken the worst, the hairless skin taking on a more melted appearance, similar to that of his hands. But other than that, the rest of his face seemed to have healed well. He had a finely chiseled mouth, his lips full and pink, and the area surrounding his eyes was healthy pale skin; long, thick black eyebrows with a few jagged scars jutting into them lined his brow and matched the lush lashes lining his deep blue eyes.

V, who had been silently wallowing in his own personal hell trying to gauge her reaction, didn't even notice when Evey brought a hand to his face. He jolted at the contact as if he'd been electrocuted, his eyes quickly darting to hers. But there was only that same loving acceptance, and he found himself finally truly believing. He closed his eyes, slowly relaxing and succumbing to the blissful sensation of Evey's fingers softly trailing the scars of his face for the very first time.

"You should have told me you were hiding such a handsome face behind that mask," she cooed as she delicately traced the contours of his brow.

V immediately tensed, his eyes snapping open. She stopped her gentle exploration, registering the hurt on V's face.

"What's wrong?" she asked worriedly.

"Evey, there is no need for such patronization. I am well aware of what I look like to know that I am far from handsome."

"Patronization?" Her brow furrowed and she sat up a bit straighter in his lap. "I am not patronizing you about anything, V. I was being quite serious."

"Evey—"

"Listen to me," she interrupted, cupping his face with both hands and looking deep into his eyes. "Whatever you think about your face is not what I think. You may see scars, but do you know what I see? I see the face of the man who put his country before his life; the face of the man who had the compassion and the conscience to take in a frightened girl and protect her; the face of the man that has the strength to survive even the worst horrors of humanity; the face of the I've thought about ever since the night of the fifth almost two years ago; and the face of the man that I love."

With that, she tenderly lowered her lips to his.

Shocked, V gasped, and Evey took full advantage of his open mouth. She slid her tongue in, eliciting a groan from each of them. A wave of desire crashed over him so powerfully it nearly shook him with its force. His arms wound about her like steel bands, locking her to his chest as her lips moved sensually over his.

_So this is what it feels like to be wanted. _ The thought floated though his brain as his eager hands caressed every curve of her body. _This is what it tastes like._ And then all coherency vanished as he succumbed to the sweet sensation of her mouth and softness of her body.

Marred hands slid up her back to tangle in her hair as she explored the confines of his mouth. With another groan, he took over and lowered her to the couch, his weight bearing down on her as he deepened the kiss.

Nearly two years of suppressed desire and longing bubbled up inside him, and he felt his body begin to respond. His breathing grew shallow as a foreign pressure began in his groin. The pressure heightened as he ground his hips into hers, reveling in every sound she made.

Evey's hands traveled from back to front, grasping at the material of his doublet before sliding up to cup his cheeks. Her clothing was feeling much too tight, and all she could think about was being out of them with V. But first, they had to get off this couch.

"V?" Evey breathed between kisses, then gasped as one hand slid down to cup and kneed her breast through the material of her shirt. But V didn't seem to hear her, he was so caught up in the sensation.

"V." She breathed again, this time gently pushing on his shoulders. V reared back with a hurt look, but before he could even register rejection she was already reassuring him with a smile and a quick but fervent kiss.

"Bedroom? The couch is too small," she husked with a wicked grin.

V stared at her for all of a moment before he whisked her up into his arms in one fluid movement, holding her tight against his chest. Evey wrapped her arms around him, giggling with excitement into his neck as he began to march purposefully through the gallery.

**Author's Note**: Yes I know this update is long overdue. My apologies that this chapter is so short. Truth be told, this is all I have finished so far for this section of the story (ducks head as reviewers throw tomatoes). This was suppose to be longer in length, but I decided to split it up into 2 chapters…again…sigh. I figured that it was just time to update. I'm working to get the rest of this section finished.


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